haunted by hellhounds
by charon noctivagus
Summary: a new year at hogwarts has begun horribly for hermione. when she discovers draco and herself are being haunted everything gets worse. then she learns only they can cure the sickness going around the school.
1. dirty to pure

Another day and another year at school. Hermoione couldn't be described as the happiest person as she waited for the train. The fact that she was the only one there was completely irrelevant. She glanced at her watch impatiently, mentally bashing ever person that came to her mind. She was still in shock over the fact she had been abandoned by her parents in their joy to have a child that was of their blood.

Adopted. Orphan. Those were never words that she would have imagined being classified under. Now she was under both cruel terms. Hermione swallowed harshly and blinked back the tears. She pointlessly paced until her legs felt covered in cement. She looked at her watch again. Still at least another three hours before even the possibility of seeing other students.

Three hours. Hermoine groaned aloud. She plopped onto the floor and unzipped her bag, sifting through it. Slowly, she pulled a long manila envelope out. Hermione bit her lip hard enough to cause a trickle of blood to fill her mouth. She ignored the metallic taste and opened the folder.

"My whole life," she whispered. "A lie. All of it." The anger rushed to her head and she swore under her breath. Not pausing in case she changed her mind, Hermione yanked out the contents and began to read her birth. Hours passed and she noticed no of it, intent on what she was reading.

Hermione read to herself, "'Mariane and Jack Sanguisga.' My parents. Hermione Sanguisga." She snorted. Her rightful name sounded ridiculous, even to her, but she was going to keep it; to be a Granger was a disgrace. She felt sorry for the poor child that would be joining their family tree.

"Well, _that's_ a mouthful," a voice drawled. Hermione jumped to her feet with a snarl.

"Mafoy," she hissed. "Why are you here?" As soon as the words left her mouth, she regreted it. Obviously she was losing her touch with sharp retorts for the Rat of the Era.

"Why, Granger," he smirked and Hermione grimaced at both the name and his tone. "Just because you think you are better than eveyone doesn't mean you will be the only person going to school. We purebloods deserve the right, don't you think?"

Hermione seethed and made a huge mistake. She took a step toward him and shot back, "for your information, I _am _a pureblood." At Draco's snort, she snatched her papers, shoving them before his face. "There is my proof." As her lifelong enemy read the sheets of paper, Hermione watched his face. For some reason, she did not want him to think worse of her than he usually did. She bit her bottom lip nervously. Draco finished scanning and emotionlessly handed it back to her. Hermione studied his face warily.

Draco felt something like pity for the girl before him. It was not an emotion he had on a regular basis so he didn't show it. Crabbie showed up and he called out, "Hey! Turns out the mudblood is a pureblood! Now you can actually touch her if you want to! Hopefully you won't have to, though. She was raised as a mudblood and will always be one; not even the end of the world will be changing that." Hermione shot a nasty look at him, but wasn't surprised by his comment just as he wasn't particularly astonished by her glare that wished him to jump off a plane without a parachute. Hopefully, there were lots of large, sharp rocks at the bottom to land gently upon.

"I hope like hell you rot," she muttered while he continued to shout out the truth of her birth as more people crowded the platform. "Come now, you don't mean that." Draco smiled and slung an arm over her shoulders. Hermoine immediately shrugged it off. "Oh, yes I do, so just go harrass someone else for once, please." He grinned. "Now why would I leave you to the company of these other people, pet? They might ravage you. Hell, with that new hairstyle and those clothes, you're the image of innocence and no one likes an innocent."

Hermione childishly stuck her tongue out at him, startled he had noticed the change. No doubt it was because he had grown use to the girl with bush hair and outdated clothes. Her hair had been rebonded straightened and the shirts fit snugly for once as did the jeans she bought with money saved from her old job. At that moment, she was attired in pinstiped charcoal pants and a light pink buttoned blouse. She had gone to a job interview after quitting her last job, determined to sever all ties to her old life. Subsequently, Hermione came to the train station.

"I suppose you care about my innocence," she said dryly. "Malfoys always were a caring bunch and I see you have their charm." Draco had slipped an arm around her tiny waist and was oblivious to her persisting attempts to discard his limb.

"Come on, Granger. They are loading us cattle on the train." Draco tugged her onto the school transportation. When they boarded the train, he released her waist but encircled her wrist. "Let's find Potter and Weasel."

Hermione helplessly was pulled down the isle after her worst enemy. She hoped that her luggage would be placed in the storage car. Mentally, she ticked off the items that were required this year, from the books to the dragon scale to the desire potion that became what you wished when mixed and poured on an animal or item. Hermione ran into a solid body as Draco braced himself against the moving train.

She scowled at his hard back. "Oww..." She stumbled back as Draco whirled around to face her.

"Somethings wrong, Hermione," he whispered. "Something is wrong with the train." Hermione frowned at the use of her first name on his lips. She opened her mouth...and screamed as the train went black. The air froze and she felt Draco's arms surround her. His warmth was welcome to her shivering.

"Draco?" she said softly. It seemed inappropriate to use Malfoy when he was practically hugging her. "What happened?" When he didn't answer, Hermione shuddered and rested her head on his shoulder, shifting her body closer.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she breathed quietly. The air heated up so fast it scorched her back. Holding back a cry, Hermione whimpered. Draco whispered in her ear, comforting her, probably to make sure she didn't scream again and attract unwanted attention from whatever was on teh train or affectingit by magic. Silence surrounded them like a burning fog.

Then someone shrieked.

And the train fell off the tracks.


	2. voices

Falling, falling, never stopping.

Hermione felt the sweat bead on her back from the heat. Voices called in distant cries, mingling in to one endless moan. The darkness taunted her with wisps of images, teasing ghosts of the imagination. The train kept falling. What was happening? She clung even more tightly onto her enemy, unable to let go, despite all hate. For now, he was the only lifevest left on a sinking ship of a falling train.

Draco shifted his feet. There was no way he was going to admit fear, so he held Hermione, slightly uncomfortably. Well, she was holding on to him, and with a delightfully painful grip. Managing to wheeze in a gulp of air, Draco leaned his back on one side of the train to keep balance. He darted his eyes around, searching for answer to the chaos. He finally noticed the quiet screaming around them, as if they were a half mile away from all civilization. A rancid stench reached his nose and he gagged, yanking away from Hermione, to retch in a corner.

_What is that smell_? Hermione thought. A light floral fume made her lightheaded, but, unlike watching Draco's retching, it was the pleasant lightheadedness. She could no longer tell if the train was still falling because she was wobbling almost drunkenly. Hermione reached out to hold on to the side of the train and, misjudging her distance, slipped to fall into a heap. She yawned tiredly and curled in a tight ball.

Draco looked irritably as the female form for a moment. He shuddered and felt like retching again. _What the hell is wrong with her_, he thought disgustedly. What normal person would sleep when they are going to crash!

Suddenly, a misty hazel-green light glowed dimly around Hermione. As he stared in morbid fascination, it grew brighter, creeping out to coat him. Draco's eyes flickered to his own body. Squinting, he determined there was a different color around him, something lighter. Shaken up, he watched Hermione, feeling sickened more than before. The cloud shrouding them became denser, deeper, and definitely scarier. The soft voices he had ignored increased in volume until he felt they were speaking directly in his ear. They sounded unclear, the words

Right then, he was actually hoping Hermione would wake up. Then at least he could watch her suffer as well. How would it be fair if he died horribly while she slept an arms length away. Draco continued staring intently, focused on waking her up, but not willing to move and shake her.

The voices chanted and by each moment, they became faster and louder. Draco couldn't determine the words they spoke in their wispy voices. His body began to hum and tingle in a slightly annoying way, like when a foot falls asleep. Only this time it was his whole body. From the way Hermione was shivering on the floor, she felt it too.

The sensation grew stronger and eventually more painful. Draco groaned. His nose began to bleed, his body started to jerk in spasms. _What the fuck is happening!_ Faintly, he heard a yelp and whimpering, but it fell away as he was bashed in the head.

Stunned, Draco fell to his knees. No sound came from his mouth other than a hard breathing pattern. He blinked, but his cloudy vision would not clear. All that he knew was pain. Like Hermione before she fell asleep, Draco began to wobble. His arms were dead weights and he could not use them. He thought he heard a laugh as he was pushed. Unable to regain his balance, Draco collapsed.

More lights. More voices. But no more pain, thank immortals.

Pointlessly, as Draco fell into oblivion, he thought_, is the train still falling_?


	3. dead men floating

disclaimer: i dont own anything by jk rowling. i do own the spirits, though

an: sorry i havent written in such a long time. My computer broke down and it took a long time to get a new one!

"_Hey, did we kill 'em, Nik?" _asked an older boy's voice.

"_Nah, the greaseball one is moving. Whiny brat. Needed to be taught a lesson," _replied a more masculine voice with a slight British accent.

The younger voice spoke again_. "Um, Nik?"_

"_What, Daniel?" _The young man's was sounding irritated. He was hovering over the girl's body, staring in fascination as he spoke. Slowly, Nik reached out a smoky hand, only to snatch it back as it passed through the feminine form. He scowled in annoyance.

_Well,I know you told me that why you are doing the blond boy, but...,"_ he paused hesitantly_. "I was wondering...why the girl?"_ Daniel glanced at his brother who was still watching Hermione. He pretended the pain behind his sibling's eyes wasn't there.

Nikolas yanked his gaze fromHermione._"Because she reminds me of everything we lost,"_he snapped angrily. "_Now stop asking questions and slit the bloody rat's finger so we can complete the ritual!"_

Daniel sighed and concentrated hard on Draco's hand as Nikolas studied Hermione. Daniel, being younger and weaker, began to sweat and groan as his head throbbed. His whole body ached and screamed. Nikolas had been one ofthe strongest mages before he was murded in jelousy, so he easily passed into the mortal world to lightly cut one of Hermione's slender fingers. Hunching over, he let a cut appear with a drop of blood on one of his fingers. He pressed their fingers together. This time, nothing merged in ghostly haze. Nikolas pulled back and turned to his struggling brother. He sent a current of energy to Daniel who then managed to preform the same ritual.

The younger sibling smiled sheepishly at his older brother. Though Nik had tried to hide the fact he had helped him, Daniel knew him too well. "_Thanks, Nik. I'm working on it still. But it comes really hard for me." _Nikolas shrugged, "_You'll get it."_ He made a swift motion with his hands and a bright light covered all four of them. A few muttered words followed and he stood up. "_Alright, let's go."_ He had a last lingering look before disappearing with his brother.

They passed through the wall, invisible, but definately there. The wall shuddered, allowing the forms through.Nikolas strode past a thinner, less important wall. he appeared in a ship covered insailors desperately trying to keep their ship from capsizing.Darkness enveloped the ship as if itwerealready lost. With a sigh, he spotted a shimmer, heading for it with a grim face. The glinting spirit turned and found Nikolas inches from him. He grinned nerveously, knowing Nikolas's reputation for being unpredictable. His concentration broken, the storm slowly lessened, then died as the form waited for an explination. No words were offered to him and tentatively asked, "You wanted something?"

Nikolas looked at him in disgust. "I could feel your energy in the Outside,Darmic." He waited and glared. The other form was smaller, and even in death less powerful. "Well," he began, "I wanted a little fun. We dead people never have fun!" the spirit's voice became whinny and Nikolas grit his teeth. "Your idea of fun is creating disasters to kill men and make it so they dont have fun, because they are dead. You have a sick mind." He scoffed, irritated andfurious. He leaned and whispered in Darmic's ear, "If I catch you tormenting mortals again,Iwill have your line cut." Darmic shuddered. Having a spirits' line cut meantno connection to the living, the spirit grounded into a white sheet for intertraveling, an empty world tobe lost in.Justas living persons can become insane, so can a spirit, only a ghost's dementation is eternal.

The sailors were steading the ship, attempting to regain lost time and direction. The skys were brightening, an annoyance to Darmic, who despised sunlight. He hurled a curse followed by a mutter: "Damn man. Thinks he is king of the fucking world. I doubt he even knows where his brother is."

Nikolas ignored him and disappeared, annoyed that he had actually forgotten his brother. He searched the white hills, in white forest, and inside white caves, before he found Daniel huddled inlarge, pure oak tree. Nikolas climed beside him, draping his arm around his sibling. His eyes shut, Daniel smiled weakly. "I am sorry I hinder you, but I don't think i can say I wish I would die."

Nikolas sighed,only squeezing hisshoulder,notamused. He lifted his head up to stareinto a shockingly brilliant sun. "No. Life is ahead. We just have to snatch it, an I know who to go to."


	4. bed visits

Hermione groaned. Her body ached and despite all efforts, she couldn't seem to move. Her hand throbbed painfully and she let out a hiss.

"Hermione?" a female voice called gently. "Hermione, wake up dear. I have some visitors for you." The voice grew sterner, directed towards someone else. "One minute only, boys. She needs more rest." Footsteps sounded, gradually growing fainter, until it disappeared.

Hermione slowly peeled back her eyelids. Hazily, she could see two forms, one dark, and the other with a sunset on his head. She tried to grin. "Hey, guys. How was the train ride?"

Ron scoffed. "No one is telling us what it was. Rumors are going around that you and Malfoy were the cause, since you two were found together, both unconscious," he said gloomily. "Any idea what happen?"

Harry frowned at him then turned back to Hermione. "How are you feeling?"

"Bad," she admitted.

"Like, being squashed by Hagrid bad?" Ron questioned.

"_Ron_," Harry and Hermione both glared at him.

"What?" he asked. "That would feel bad, wouldn't it? Although, any feeling _would_ soon pass away. Along with all of your internal organs. But anyway, everyone wants to know: what happened?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip. "About the train, you mean? Nobody knows anything yet? Harry, has D-" she was cut off.

"You're still here! Out! Take out your germ infested bodies! The both of you! Do you want her to get better or not!"

Chastised, both boys removed themselves, tossing back a promise to visit her again.

Hermione was secretly grateful they left. She felt tired, surprising, after all the sleep she had just done. Suddenly, she remembered: The sorting ceremony! And what about her classes? What was she going to do!

As she was reprimanding herself, a dark cloaked form crept to her bed. "Mudblood."

She managed not to scream. "Malfoy," she spat, pretending she wasn't overly fazed by his abrupt presence. "Piss off."

Draco smirked. "Why? Oh yes, because you think you're better than me, since you really are a Pureblood. But it seems blood doesn't matter. Your parents still abandoned you, didn't they?"

Hermione didn't wince, although it took effort. She stared up into his blank eyes and hated the submissive position she was in. She managed to prop herself up on her elbows, half-leaning against the backboard of the bed.

"What do you want?"

"Me?" Draco looked at her mockingly. "Why would I want something from you, Granger?"

Hermione gave a small shrug. "You tell me. You came here."

Draco smirked and Hermione wondered pointlessly if that was a practically permanent expression on his face.

"Now that you've mentioned it, I don't think I will. Unless you ask me too," he said with a sneer.

Hermione gave him a dirty look. "And why would I do that? You probably just want to inform me about how you're a miserable rodent who has no purpose in life. And then I'll tell you to throw yourself off a cliff. They would find your nasty body crushed by the fall and everyone would shake their heads and say 'good riddance!' " She paused thoughtfully. "Wait. If that is how it would turn out, then please, do continue."

Draco scoffed at her and, after a quick peek to see if anyone was watching, he snatched one of her hands to see her fingers. Since she had been using her arms to keep from letting the dizziness take over and falling, his action resulted in her collapsing into his shoulder. Cursing, Draco clutched her wrist, dragging her down with him to land on the floor.

Hermione whimpered and held in a scream. Fire was running through her right arm. She closed her eyes and curled protectively into a small ball around her arm.

"Granger," came the hiss. "Granger, get up. You'll get us both in trouble." When she didn't move, he huffed and leaned his back against the infirmary bed. Hermione distantly felt him roughly thrust a pillow under her head before she fell asleep again, the pain seeping away, to reveal a cord tugging at her soul.


End file.
